


Union

by brightly_lit



Series: Feathers [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightly_lit/pseuds/brightly_lit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is finally getting married, and Dean couldn't be happier for him, since he's going to be the only Winchester brother who ever ties the knot.  Dean isn't marriage material and he knows it.  Making life-long, soul-deep, unattainable vows is way beyond his capabilities ... right?  </p><p>"If union means knowing every way there is to destroy someone, I don’t want it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Union

**Author's Note:**

> \- I keep getting more ideas for my Dean/Cas pairing, so I keep writing more stories within this framework. This is a stand-alone story, but if you would like to read earlier installments, you may find them on my list of works, or at the following URLs:
> 
> 1) Feathers: http://archiveofourown.org/works/674207
> 
> 2) Human: http://archiveofourown.org/works/690611
> 
>  
> 
> \- Things get pretty dark and heavy, emotionally speaking, in this story (there are even slight intimations of non-con and its consequences), but after the previous two stories, this is the only place I could see things going for these two characters in this relationship. The previous two stories hinted at significant difficulties to come, and they arrive here. The sex is not graphically depicted, but it is emotionally intense.

Dean straightened Cas’s tie.  “God, you’re hot,” Dean said, stepping back to survey him in his tuxedoed glory.  “When God created angels, he stopped with you, because he knew you were perfect.”

 

“Two hundred seventy-three angels were created after me,” Cas said glumly, “but it’s true that I was one of the last.  Kind of an afterthought, you might say.”

 

Dean knew he should know better by now than to invoke God when he was trying to pay Cas a compliment, but apparently he didn’t.  “Well then, he didn’t know what he’d made, because you’re perfect,” he blustered on.

 

Cas quirked his head curiously at Dean.  “Are ... you suggesting my father could somehow engage in an act of creation without knowing he was doing so?”

 

“Never mind about your father, okay?” Dean finally barked.  “I’m just trying to say you’re hot!”

 

“Oh.”  Cas’s troubled expression lightened as he thought over the exchange with that in mind.  “Thank you.  And my father, when he created you, he ... well ... wanted to make an ... ideal vessel!” he said excitedly, since he’d plainly been searching for something to say and not coming up with anything good.  “Er ... that is, you more evolved than were directly created by God, really, but since time is fluid ....”

 

“Got it; I’m hot,” Dean said, smiling, and kissed Cas on the cheek, spiffing his lapels as he did so.  “Okay.  You ready for this?” 

 

“My understanding is that my only responsibility is to walk down the aisle behind you, dressed as I am, and stand around next to you for the duration of the ceremony.  Also, not to embarrass you.”

 

“Sam only wanted us not to embarrass _him_ ,” Dean corrected.  “You can embarrass me all you want.” 

 

“I hope I don’t embarrass anyone, but I seem to all too frequently ....”  Cas looked troubled again. 

 

“Hey, stop with that.  Stop.  Like I said, you’re perfect.  Anyone who doesn’t get you, that’s their problem.”

 

“But Sam asked me specifically--”

 

“Forget Sam, all right?” Dean said sharply, drawing Cas close.  “He’s just ... he gets like this when there’s some kind of big ceremony or something, like when he graduated from high school and college.  I don’t know where he got it; maybe from Mom, because he sure as hell didn’t get it from Dad.  It’s just how he is.  It’s not you.  He asked me specifically, too, remember?”

 

“Yes, but with you, it ... makes sense.”

 

Cas got that look on his face he got whenever it dawned on him that he’d just said something really insulting.  He glanced hesitantly at Dean’s face to gauge his expression, and looked reassured by Dean’s wry smirk, which gave way to Dean cracking up.  Cas chuckled softly too, like he didn’t quite get the joke.  He was just too adorable.

 

Sam poked his head in, looking super pissy.  “Dean!” he hissed.

 

“Coming!” Dean said tiredly, then spared another wink for Cas.  Sam’s head disappeared.  Dean should go help Sam get ready.  But ... but Cas was so hot in that tux!  So kissable ....  He couldn’t resist making out with him a little, which led to more, and then a little more .... 

 

Cas drew back and cleared his throat.  “Er ... the wedding ceremony is in thirty-eight minutes, and on average, our lovemaking lasts a good deal longer--”

 

“Fine, fine.  I go attend to his highness, while you ... hang out.  Lucky bastard,” Dean muttered.  Dean’s list of responsibilities was a mile long!  Speaking of which, he should probably hunt down Virginia’s brother and make sure he was where he was supposed to be.  Good thing he would never have to worry about getting married.  What a nightmare.

 

Sam could face a roomful of monsters and remain stony calm, but he was freaking out now.  “Where’s Phil?” Sam demanded as soon as Dean caught up to him.

 

“I was just gonna go look for ’im.”

 

“The wedding’s in half an hour!”

 

“Yeah, I know, I just--”

 

“Do you know if Virginia’s ready?  Would you go check on her and the bridesmaids?  I can’t see her, but you can.  Go check.”

 

“Pretty sure she’s not gonna miss her own wedding, Sam.”

 

“Well, maybe they need help.”

 

“With what, putting on makeup?!  Whatever the bridesmaids might need help with right now, I ain’t the guy for the job.”

 

“Dean!--”

 

“Sam, a guy can only do so much!  I’m gonna find Phil right now!  And do ... whatever other stuff I’m supposed to be doing, so would you let me go do it?”

 

“Keep Cas away from the guests.  I’m sorry, but you just never know what might come out of his mouth.”

 

Dean was having fun until Sam said that.  “Sam.”  He sounded dangerous.

 

“I’m sorry, but Dean, Virginia’s entire family is here, and all her friends!  Do you want to have to try to explain something he says about demons or monsters or being an angel of the lord--and don’t tell me he wouldn’t,” he interrupted Dean trying to say exactly that, “because you know he would.  He does it all the time, and it’s okay with strangers--a little weird, but okay--but these are gonna be my in-laws, Dean!”

 

“All right, all right!” Dean said, frowning.  “Fine, I’ll guard Cas.”  Actually, if that was his main job, that could be pretty sweet.  “So then, do you just want me to do that?  Because if you just want me to hang around with Cas--”

 

“Dean, so help me, if you don’t step up and start doing all your best man duties--and doing them well--I will replace you with Phil.”

 

“Phil?!”

 

“Or Cas.”

 

“I ... don’t think that’s a good idea.  I mean ...,” he started to laugh, “last night, he was asking me about weddings, and he thought the wedding night was--”

 

“Dean!”

 

“Okay, I’m on it!” 

 

Dean tried to hurry away, and Sam called after him, “Dean, do you have the ring?”

 

“How many times have you asked me that?!  Of course I have the ring!  It’s in my pocket.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“YES, I’M SURE.”

 

“Would you double-check?”

 

“Sam, I know it’s your wedding day, but so help me, I am this close to kicking your ass if you don’t simmer down and leave me be.”

 

“Okay.  All right.  Sorry.  I know that whatever you might screw up, you wouldn’t do that.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Actually ...,” Sam said, peering out uneasily at the gathering crowd, “if you could keep all our hunter friends away from Virginia’s family ....”  Dean goggled in disbelief.  Sam saw it and backpedaled quick.  “Okay, yeah, if you could just find Phil ....”

 

Dean shook his head and went in search of Virginia’s brother, Phil.  He found him greeting guests and helping them get seated--one of Dean’s jobs he hadn’t had time for, since he was busy making out with Cas.  Dean liked him immediately.  He did check on the bride and the bridesmaids, telling himself he wasn’t hoping for a glimpse of something good.  Unfortunately, they were all completely dressed by the time he knocked on the door, but ... wow, they were beautiful.  “You clean up good,” he told Jo with a wink.

 

“Too bad you don’t,” she retorted, but she was kind of looking him up and down like she couldn’t take her eyes off the view. 

 

Dean grinned and went to find Cas--just in the nick of time, as he was standing next to Virginia’s father, attempting in his unique way to start a conversation.  Dean hurried to their side, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble.  Cas kept looking at the man’s face with a big smile, seemingly looking for an opening.  Finally, he made one himself.  “This is my first wedding,” he informed him.  The man looked at Cas in surprise.  Jimmy was in his late thirties, so that’s how old Cas looked, which was pretty old never to have been to a wedding before.  “I mean, that’s not strictly true; I’ve actually been to millions, but never in my human for--”

 

“Ha ha ha!” Dean cried, and Cas flinched, startled.  “Ha, Cas, you’re hilarious.  C’mere.”  He dragged him away into the house.  Okay, so maybe Sam was right about the things Cas said.  Cas looked longingly back at Virginia’s father the whole way Dean dragged him.  “Remember, what we talked about, about the ‘human form’ thing?”

 

Cas slumped, ashamed.  “I’m sorry.  I forgot.  I was only trying to make certain I was being entirely honest--”

 

“Honesty’s overrated, especially with in-laws.  That was a good start, though.  You should’ve just stuck with that, about it being your first wedding.  Really, though?  _Millions_?”

 

Cas beamed dreamily.  “Yes.  The sacred union between two people ... angels are attracted to such proceedings.  Angels attend every wedding at the heart of which lies true love.”

 

“Now _that’s_ romantic,” Dean murmured, drawing him close and nuzzling his forehead.

 

“I only stand there?  That’s all I do?  Should I smile?  I think I’ll smile at the guests for the duration of the ceremony.”

 

“No!  No, no, no.  Just stand there; that’s it.  Please.”

 

“Very well.  I’ll follow your lead, then.”

 

“Oh, and we escort in the bridesmaids.  I’m stuck with the maid of honor, but you get to walk with Jo.”

 

“Yes,” Cas said, pleased.  Cas and Jo had developed some weird relationship only they seemed to understand, but they both seemed happy with it.

 

“Actually, I guess we better go round ’em up now; we walk down the aisle in ten minutes.”

 

“Yes.”

 

The bridesmaids were just emerging from the upstairs bathroom where they’d holed up to get ready, making sure Sam wasn’t around so he didn’t see the bride.  Dean hadn’t seen Jo this excited since she was a kid.  They all gathered by the back door of Sam and Dean’s house to get ready to walk out into the backyard, where the ceremony would be held.  Dean went and got Sam in place, then came back and put the maid of honor’s arm over his with a flirtatious grin.  Ash had begged them to let his Aerosmith cover band play at the wedding, which Dean thought sounded pretty cool, but Sam had nixed that idea, instead hiring a real band that was going to play the stupid modern music Sam liked.  Still, the acoustic music wafting in through the back door was pretty: the wedding march played on guitars. 

 

Dean kicked Cas lightly in the ass.  “Get goin’; we’re up.”  Phil and the other bridesmaid started walking.  Cas and Jo followed, walking slowly and ceremonially, the way they’d been shown at the rehearsal.  Virginia’s family was smiling politely, but all Sam and Dean’s hunter friends were smirking or laughing outright at the sight.  Bobby’s shoulders were shaking as he hid his face in his hands.  Dean could overlook just about anything when it came to Cas, but even he couldn’t help snickering at how awkward he looked doing it, as if he still wasn’t used to having legs, which honestly, he probably wasn’t.  Dean and the maid of honor walked behind Cas and Jo, and after them came Virginia, holding onto her father.  Dean quelled a moment’s sadness that neither of their parents was alive to see Sam tie the knot.  They would have been so happy and proud to see their sons living a happy, almost normal life, which was exactly what their parents had always wanted for them more than anything, what they’d fought for.  It was finally a reality, at least for this moment.

 

Dean had to fight the tears that suddenly sprang into his eyes at the sight of Sam up there at the altar, looking as nervous and excited and open-hearted as he used to when he was a teenager, looking so normal.  Even Sam, looking normal.  A wedding.  Whaddya know, even the Winchesters could do normal once in a while.  Okay, the collection of hunters scattered on the folding chairs on the lawn didn’t look like your usual wedding guests, but Sam had insisted on formal attire, and they’d all cleaned up the best they could, even if a few of them were wearing suits that hadn’t been in style in a few decades, and most of them sported the bulge of concealed weapons somewhere underneath.  And then there was Cas; nothing normal about him.  Everything else, though, looked as perfect as a postcard.  Dean and the maid of honor arrived at the altar and separated, Dean going to stand by Cas, who was grinning vividly out at the crowd.  Dean elbowed him.  Cas looked at him wonderingly, then remembered.  He studied Dean’s expression for a few seconds, then mimicked it exactly, which told Dean what he must look like: overcome with emotion.  He tried to look more stoic, and he was pretty sure he did not succeed. 

 

Virginia finally got to Sam and took his arm.  Dean was surprised at how right that looked, like they belonged together, and all remaining anxiety left Dean.  The hard part was over.  All he had to do now was give his best-man speech.  From here on out, it was all about Sam and Virginia, nothing more to worry about.  Dean was getting lost in happiness, thinking about Sam and Virginia and the future, Sam’s normal, happy life, how the two of them might have kids, when the minister--Pastor Jim--turned to Dean with a smile.  “Can we have the ring?”

 

“Sure.” 

 

Dean reached into his pocket.  No ring.  He reached into his other pocket.  No ring.  He reached into another pocket--freakin’ Sam had insisted on a jacket over a vest; basically, the whole get-up had approximately a thousand pockets.  No ring.  No need to panic.  It was only a ring.  It’s not like they couldn’t find it if it had fallen into the grass somewhere, and--okay, Dean was panicking, especially when he saw the look on Sam’s face, like ... like he hadn’t expected anything better out of Dean.  Resigned.  Disappointed.  “It’s here somewhere,” Dean insisted, attempting a humorous tone.  Sure enough, their hunter buddies were beginning to laugh, but not at his joke--they knew him too well.  They probably hadn’t expected better out of him, either.  Only Cas stood by, watching without judgment or fear.  Dean started re-checking pockets desperately.

 

Suddenly, Cas said, rather loudly, “I’ll ... go look for it.”  All eyes followed him during the long, silent interlude as he went around the far side of the house out of everyone’s view.  He had hardly turned the corner before he came back, walking briskly, waiting until he returned to the altar to say, “It’s in your pocket.”

 

“I looked!” Dean cried desperately.

 

“Not any of those pockets.  This pocket.”  There was an excruciatingly intimate moment as Cas reached inside Dean’s jacket, ran his hand across Dean’s chest in front of everybody, and finally rummaged in a vest pocket before emerging with the ring, and Dean couldn’t care anymore what people were thinking of Cas or the two of them, he was so relieved, though there were a lot of murmurs in the crowd, especially among Virginia’s family, wondering how Cas had known the ring was in that pocket simply from having walked to the side of the house.  Some people even seemed to think it was a joke or a magic trick, but looking at Dean standing there still sweating seemed to convince them otherwise, and then they were merely confused. 

 

Cas handed the ring to Dean, who handed it to Sam, who gave Dean a terrifying look before putting it on Virginia’s finger and the wedding ceremony resumed.  Dean’s heart was pounding louder than it ever did, even during the most dangerous hunts.  Cas took his hand and smiled at him nicely, and Dean didn’t miss the side-long glances this attracted from some of Virginia’s family.  Dean drew himself up and squeezed Cas’s hand back, grateful for his kindness and comfort.  So Dean didn’t look the type.  So he’d already flirted with all the unmarried women in Virginia’s family, and a couple of the married ones, too.  So he and Cas were an odd couple, to say the least.  Whatever.  It didn’t matter what people thought, right?

 

Dean worried about what Sam was going to say for the whole rest of the ceremony, unable to enjoy any of it, even the kiss.  They ended up alone together in the kitchen right afterward, as the guests congratulated Virginia outside and Sam felt compelled to check on the cake.  “I’m sorry, Sam,” Dean said.  Those words had never sounded more desperate or sincere out of Dean.  “I’m so sorry, man.  I thought I had it, and--”

 

Sam shrugged.  “You did have it.  You just panicked when it wasn’t in the pocket you thought.  It’s all good.”  Sam smiled at him then, changing the subject to let him know everything was fine.  “Dean, dude.  I’m married!”

 

Dean was so relieved, he could cry.  Actually, he was probably gonna cry, so he hugged Sam tight to hide his tears.  “Yeah,” he said when he was able.  “My little brother’s married.”

 

“It’s like we’re normal or something.”

 

“I know, right?”

 

Sam let him go.  “So, I guess you’re up next.”

 

Dean was baffled.  “Huh?”

 

“You and Cas ... you’re gonna get married, right?  I mean, it may not be legal yet in this state, but you know we’ll all come to a state where it is legal for the ceremony.”

 

Dean was flabbergasted.  “Huh?  I’m not marrying a dude.”

 

Sam looked confused.  “Well ... why not?  You’re gonna be with him forever, right?”

 

“What the--?”  Nothing like this had ever crossed Dean’s mind.  “No, Sam.  He’s not even human.  Even if I was still straight or whatever, you know I was never gonna get married.”

 

Sam was thrown off, like this conversation had gone completely unexpectedly, which didn’t happen often between the Winchester brothers.  Okay, they didn’t spend quite as much time together anymore, but they did still live together, and were pretty up on each other’s thoughts on any given subject.  This one had simply never come up.  “Er ... well, I know you thought you weren’t marriage material, but Cas is pretty ... tolerant--” Dean frowned, “--and I know neither of us thought we would live long enough, but ... we were wrong.”  He smiled, a smile of pure, simple happiness such as Dean had never seen on his face, not once, because nothing had ever been this simple for them before.  He was happy to be alive, happy to be here now doing what he was doing, happy to be married.  It was as simple as that.

 

Dean was also totally thrown off.  “Cas and I are okay.  We don’t need ... no.  You’ll never see me up there vowing this or that, no way.  Ain’t gonna happen.  Not even with Cas.  What do you even say?  I mean, who has to be the girl?”  Sam burst out laughing.  “What?” Dean said, annoyed.  “Who has to promise to obey?  ’Cause I ain’t obeyin’ shit.”

 

“’Who has to be the girl?’  I don’t know, Dean; who’s the girl when you’re in bed?”

 

“Nobody’s the girl!” Dean cried irritably.  Sam seemed to feel he’d proved his point, but Dean was feeling more and more defensive the longer this conversation went on.  He came to an abrupt conclusion.  “He’s the angel with the pretty wings, so he should be the girl.  He’s sexless!  I mean, genderless, so he should have to do it!”  Sam was in hysterics.  “What?  Shut up.”

 

“Did you just hear Virginia promise to obey me?”

 

“I ... don’t know; I wasn’t really listening.”

 

“Well, she didn’t.  Where did you even get these archaic ideas about marriage, Dean?  Don’t tell me that’s what Mom and Dad were like.”

 

“They did get married a long time ago.  I mean, I wasn’t there, so I can’t be sure, but it probably was like that.”

 

“Well, Mom never obeyed Dad.  She was a hunter!  Trust me, nobody has to obey anybody.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, because Cas and I are never getting married!” Dean finally yelled hysterically, only to see Sam’s eyes flash to someone who had just come into the room, and Dean turned to see who it was: Cas.  Sam looked a little sad, like he was afraid Cas’s feelings would be hurt by what he’d just overheard, but Dean wasn’t worried.  “Hey baby, ’sup?”

 

“I’m ... sorry I ... publicly displayed my affection for you during the wedding ceremony.  Four people already have asked me whether we’re lovers, and I know you dislike that.  I’m sorry, Dean; I only meant to give you comfort.”

 

“I don’t care what Sam’s in-laws think of me, and all the hunters already know,” Dean said, hurrying to Cas’s side to put some space between himself and the unpleasant ordeal of a conversation he’d just suffered through with Sam.  “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“You were speaking of marriage?  Between us?”  Cas seemed shocked at the notion.

 

“Yeah.  Sam was gonna make you wear a dress and promise to obey me!”

 

“That is _not_ how it happened--” Sam tried to interject.

 

“An angel of the lord could never get married,” Cas said, eyes wide, backing away as if afraid of the idea.  “That is an honor reserved for humans.”

 

“Wait, so you’d want to, if you could?” Dean asked, confused.

 

Cas shook his head, utterly overwhelmed.  “Of course not.  I would never say that.  I would never have the thought.  The arrogance--”

 

Dean glanced quickly at Sam, who raised an eyebrow back.  Dean was lost in ruminating on what Cas’s reaction meant, but apparently Sam couldn’t resist: “You’d look better in the dress, Dean; Cas is kind of squarely built, plus your face is so pretty.”

 

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” Dean said, but he hardly had the attention to properly threaten his brother, looking into Cas’s beautiful, frightened eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Sam and Virginia weren’t around, Dean and Cas could have burgers every night.  Dean planned to.  That wasn’t the only thing they could do when they weren’t around, and they were going to be gone for two whole weeks on their honeymoon.  Dean had all kinds of plans for Cas.  He grinned evilly just thinking of them.  Cas’s angelic sweetness kind of put a damper on his dirty thoughts when he came out of the bathroom ready for bed.  Cas was gazing somewhere up into the heavens.  He looked warmly at Dean.  “Sam and Virginia are now made one.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“On their honeymoon.”

 

“Yep, lucky bastards.”

 

Cas wasn’t jealous; he could truly be 100% happy for someone even if he would never get to have the awesome thing they had.  He smiled to himself.  “I bet he’s attempting to impregnate her at this very moment,” he said dreamily. 

 

Dean burst out laughing.  “I bet you’re right.  Speaking of, uh ... do I ... ever go too far during ... you know, sex?”  Cas tilted his head curiously.  Dean thought back over what he’d said and realized he’d have to be more specific.  “You know, ’cause, uh ... I can really get you going, with your wings, and ... maybe sometimes I’m kind of merciless.”  Cas still stared at him without comprehension.  “I’m just asking, is it ever too much?  Would it be okay if I really went crazy on you?”

 

“Do as you like,” Cas said softly, flummoxed.  “I have always enjoyed everything we’ve ever done.”

 

Dean beamed, feeling positively villainous, but Cas never seemed to see anything wrong with it when he looked like that.  “Cool.  Then get ready, baby; I’m gonna make you howl.”

 

Cas looked slightly nervous, but excited.  “Is that ... common?  That is, I could try to howl right now; you don’t have to make me--”

 

Dean took off his clothes, grinning.  “No, no, you just leave it to me.”

 

Yeah, so it turned out Cas’s wings were like giant sex toys.  That was a nice touch, Dean thought, that God made it so Cas could get hot and bothered just from having them fondled, however lightly.  He really had done an awesome job creating Cas.  Cas indicated angels had no sexuality, having no need to procreate, instead being created directly by their father, so the whole wing thing didn’t really make sense ....  Not to mention Dean was the only thing that could touch them unless Cas was feeling something really strongly, which didn’t happen very often; angels generally didn’t freak out.  Anyway, Dean didn’t know why his wings responded the way they did, and he didn’t figure he needed to in order to make the most of it. 

 

“Take off your shirt,” Dean instructed.  “Actually, take off everything.”  Cas climbed off the bed and obeyed.  “You should totally be the girl; you’re good at obeying,” Dean told him steamily. 

 

“Angels were made to obey,” Cas replied absently.

 

“Not me.”

 

“You are very disobedient.”

 

“Yeah, but you love it,” Dean told him cockily, and was gratified to see Cas nod in agreement.  Dean stepped up to him once all his clothes were off and stroked his fingers up through his hair, thumb on his cheek, holding his head in place, the better to make out with him.  “Seriously, you like that?” Dean had to ask, kissing him.  Cas kissed great when he was turned on, but at times like this, when nothing was really happening yet, he was still pretty awkward.  He mostly didn’t react, or pursed his lips like your grandma might.  Other times he would suddenly remember he was supposed to have his mouth open and abruptly open it too wide.  It was much worse when Dean was talking to him at the same time; he had no idea what to do.  Cas nodded, and Dean breathed into his mouth, “What do you like about it?”

 

Apparently it was worse when he was made to think, too: ruminating on Dean’s question, he stood there, lips pressed tightly closed, which made making out with him almost impossible, but Dean had never been easily daunted, and he kept at it.  Finally, Cas said, “I like everything about it.”

 

Dean groaned, melting.  He almost pushed him onto the bed right then, but it was so fun to watch him get all weak in the knees and collapse of his own accord, so Dean only steered him to a place where he would end up collapsing onto the bed.  Dean stroked his hand softly down Cas’s wing, which didn’t quiver; his body did instead.  A few more strokes, and Cas started to fall; Dean caught him.  “You’re so fuckin’ hot,” Dean whispered, feeling kind of bad to hear foul language come out of his mouth at a glorious time like this.  Cas never talked like that.  Still, Cas always seemed to understand what he meant, the way he meant it.

 

Cas searched for words.  He seemed to be of the mind that if someone said something to you, you were obliged to respond, however difficult giving such a response might be at the moment.  He was polite like that, so unlike Dean.  Dean knew he had Cas where he wanted him when he finally rendered him incapable of speech, but he sure enjoyed making him keep on trying to talk until that time came.  “Thank you,” he said at last.

 

“You’re welcome,” Dean murmured.  Once Cas was in the mood, Dean could turn his attention to the rest of his body without fear he’d suddenly decide he’d just as soon be doing something else and disappear.  As fun as sex was anyway, it was five times as fun with someone who was just discovering for the first time the sensations his body was capable of experiencing.  First, though, Dean needed to make him more pliant, since he was hanging there stiffly in his arms.  He stroked his wings until Cas’s entire body fell as limp as a ragdoll, and then Dean laid him out on the bed.  If he was honest, Dean had to admit he was a little jealous of how turned on just touching Cas’s wings got him.  Not like Dean didn’t enjoy sex, but he’d never felt anything like what Cas seemed to feel.  So generally he stuck to the next best thing to feeling it himself: making Cas feel it, as much and as deeply and for as long as possible.

 

Dean had never been able to have this kind of fun with a human.  Girls expected you to talk to them, to do normal things, say normal things.  With Cas, he could do absolutely whatever came into his mind, say anything no matter how vulnerable or revealing or disgustingly corny and romantic, because Cas would never bat an eye.  It might seem like Cas was the one who was lost to himself, but Dean knew he was just as lost, often suddenly becoming aware he was saying things he never thought he would tell anyone, things even he didn’t know had been buried somewhere inside him all this time.  Cas responded to everything he said as he played with Cas’s body to his heart’s content, until finally, after a soft but virtually endless mewl, Cas said something in another language.  “Huh?” Dean teased him.  “Didn’t get that.”

 

Cas had obviously already forgotten whatever he’d meant to say, only staring at Dean with soft, glazed eyes.

 

Dean drew him onto his lap so that they were spooning sitting up, and teased him with his hands at the same time as he teased him with his words.  “Come on, man, I’m still waiting to hear it.  What was that?”

 

Cas stirred himself to try to remember, and at last said, almost inaudibly, “I’m sorry; I’ve ... forgotten.”

 

“Maybe this’ll help you remember,” Dean said, doing something guaranteed to make him forget.  No howling yet, but he was getting some squealing.  Another great thing about doing it with Cas was that he was never self-conscious about any sounds he made or ways he reacted, which ... well, probably would freak out Sam and Virginia if they were here, but which made Dean very, very happy.  Yep, these were the kinds of sounds Dean had been planning to draw out of Cas once they finally had the place to themselves. 

 

It wasn’t just noises Cas made that might freak someone out.  Cas was getting excited enough now that his wings were starting to interact with the environment.  Dean had already angel-sex-proofed the room, putting everything breakable downstairs, because this had happened before a few times: if Cas felt things intensely enough, his wings had been known to sweep various objects onto the floor, or even across the room.  They’d been fluttering fairly constantly for a while now as Dean toyed with him, but they were beginning to bang rhythmically against the wall behind them.  At first this was fun, but Dean was starting to get worried--whether for the health of Cas’s wings or the structural integrity of the wall, he couldn’t be certain.  He took a break from teasing Cas mercilessly to put his lips against his ear and whisper, “Hey--hey, baby, let’s cool it with the wings, okay?  I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

 

Cas was gasping and writhing, limbs flailing, but he nodded a little and attempted to obey, getting his wings under control so they weren’t pounding the wall anymore, though the lower edges and the flight feathers were trembling madly.  “The things I can do to you ...,” Dean whispered.  “You’re mine.”

 

Whenever the wing-banging started in the past, he’d relented and stopped teasing poor Cas, but Cas had told him to do as he wished, so he kept going.  He’d always wondered what would happen if he did, but he’d figured if Sam and Virginia were here, they’d come running, since it sounded like armageddon.  Now, there was no reason to hold back.  Okay, so maybe the drywall or some furniture would suffer, but Cas could put it right with a touch, so that was no deterrent.  Dean wondered how much Cas could take.  Being an angel, he seemed to have a threshold far beyond that of most humans, as well as an expanded capacity for pleasure. 

 

The wing-banging had started again, but Cas didn’t seem to be feeling any pain.  Dean was most satisfied with the way things were progressing.  He thought he might even be close to getting that howl, when suddenly, Cas jerked forward out of his arms, wings beating the air so hard every piece of paper and mote of dust and object with any aerodynamic qualities at all took flight.  Dean covered his head to avoid being hit by a cardboard box, so he didn’t see Cas pivot on the bed, didn’t realize that put Dean directly in the path of one of those wildly beating wings.  He was knocked halfway across the room onto his feet before he had any idea what had happened, then the other wing came and knocked him several feet in the other direction. 

 

“Hey, Cas!  Cas!” he shouted, trying to get his attention, but Cas seemed not only well beyond the power of speech, he even seemed past the ability to comprehend it.  Cas did turn at the sound, and Dean quailed at the sight of his face.  He’d seen Cas in all kinds of states, but he’d never seen anything like this.  Dean had always kind of laughed at the idea of angels as warriors, but he could see it now.  He couldn’t see anything else.  Cas was the very picture of an avenging angel, an inhuman ferocity suffusing him, power so far beyond human comprehension.  Dean never ran from anything.  Not ever.  Cringing back was beyond instinctual; it was beyond his control.  He took a step back, and then another.  Cas was past thought, acting purely on instinct.  Usually during sex, it was human instinct, but Dean had pushed him across some boundary and it had become angelic instinct.  Dean had no idea what that might entail, but he was sure it couldn’t be good.  He was barely aware of what he figured would probably be his last thought: he had actually died by sex.  He had room to be pleased with the realization before he covered his face with his arms and awaited the inevitable smiting.

 

He peeked between his arms when it didn’t immediately come, to find Cas still staring at him that same, terrifying way.  He watched, frozen, as Cas slunk out of the bed, as feral and graceful as a panther, wings high and aloft, like a hawk gliding on the currents.  Cas muttered something in a language so foreign and beautiful, Dean assumed it must be Enochian, especially given the highly angelic state Cas had reverted to.  Cas pointed at the bed.

 

“Wh--What, Cas?” Dean squeaked out.

 

“You disobey,” Cas said commandingly, and pointed again at the bed.

 

Dean winced.  Death by smiting standing near the bed?  Or death by smiting in the bed?  He might literally be killed by sex.  He’d have told anyone who listened that that was exactly how he wanted to go, but faced with it, like this ... he took it all back right now.  He was not doing anything Cas said.  “Cas ... Cas, baby, can we talk about this?  Sorry.  I pushed you too far.  I didn’t know.  I should’ve known, maybe, but ... I’m sorry.  I promise, I’ll never do it again.  It was stupid, I’m sure I should’ve known that much--”

 

That was all he got out before, with the tiniest flick of his wrist, Cas tossed him across the room without touching him, landing him where he wanted him--just like up against the wall with those damn demons, only ... down against the bed.  Dean tried to get up, which resulted in his abruptly being held in place without any force except Cas’s will.  “Please,” Dean gasped, “please don’t kill me, baby.  With the gate to heaven closed, you won’t be able to bring me back.  I get that you’re pissed, but I’m pretty sure you’ll regret it--”

 

“Silence, or I’ll silence you.”

 

“Okay, but first, I just wanna say--” and that was it.  He could think words, form them, just not actually speak them aloud.  He felt Cas get on the bed, felt him lie on top of him, felt his wings begin to brush most tantalizingly along his sides ....  Once he figured out Cas didn’t seem to be planning to kill him, he found himself unable to resist responding to the touch.  It was as if Cas knew exactly what would excite him the most at any given moment.  Was that within angels’ power?  Apparently.  Not like any other angel had ever had cause to prove it.  Now he knew. 

 

Okay, so this was payback.  Dean smiled.  He could handle that. ... Or could he? he wondered, as it proceeded unrelentingly, endlessly.  There was a lot he wanted to say, would have said, if he could have, while he still had his wits about him--apologies, explanations, or, if this really was it, a final “I love you”--but then he was beyond thought.  He could writhe a little, groan--even howl--but not say a single word.  Cas was gentle, loving, almost back to his usual self except for the uncharacteristic mercilessness, as if as long as he had Dean where he wanted him, he was happy and content, kissing Dean sweetly along his shoulders and cheek.  When he finally brought an end to the wonderful torment and made love to him, Dean couldn’t have even said who or where he was anymore.  Every inch of him was aware of every inch of Cas, where he was, what he was doing, what he was feeling.  This.  This was what he made Cas feel.  This was Cas’s way of giving it back.

 

Dean knew when Cas made him able to talk again, but there was no reason to say anything, lying there, Cas’s weight still on him, his hand stroking his thigh softly.  They were as much made one as Sam and Virginia could ever be, saying a few words in front of Pastor Jim.  Dean reached down and gripped Cas’s hand.  He felt a feather touch his cheek in return.  One little tear of happiness escaped Dean’s eye and traveled down his cheek, and the feather caught it, took it into itself.  They were one.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Cas came toward him.  His wings were made of fire.  His eyes glowed red, but even so, he was gloriously, frighteningly beautiful.  How had Dean not known this was what Cas truly was?: warrior, avenger, redeemer.  Destroyer, out to smite all that which was not worthy.  Cas was coming for him to eradicate him, finally having realized Dean was impure.  The second Cas touched him, he would be erased.  Dean turned to run, but of course you couldn’t outrun an angel; the instant he stopped looking behind him, there Cas was right in front of him.  Cas grabbed his shoulders and it seared him.  Dean screamed.

 

He woke to the sound of his own voice, a yell, not that loud, but loud in the deep of night.  “Dean?” Cas said anxiously, holding him by the shoulders.  “You were having a nightmare.”

 

It took Dean a few seconds to come back to himself and realize everything was okay, Cas was his same old harmless, gentle self.  Dean put his hand over one of Cas’s, which still seemed to sear him.  They’d gone right to sleep after the big weird sexathon the night before; apparently Cas’s scary dom performance had burrowed deeper into Dean’s psyche than he’d have guessed.  “Yeah,” he said, breath finally beginning to slow.  “Yeah, guess I was.”

 

“What did you dream?” Cas asked, all sweet concern.

 

Dean almost told him, because actually it was kind of funny in retrospect, but even tired and freaked out, he realized at the last second that it would be a bad idea to tell him.  Cas would probably take it to heart and think he’d done something wrong, and nothing good could come of that, Dean knew from bitter experience.  “Uh ...,” he said, trying to think up a lie really fast, then realizing Cas would probably know if he was lying, he hedged, “uh ... you know, it’s already gone.”

 

Cas bent so that his forehead was almost touching Dean’s, peering intently into Dean’s eyes, which he closed quickly so Cas couldn’t see the truth in them.  “You lie,” Cas said, surprised.  “Why?”

 

“Just ... I don’t want to talk about it.  It was nothing.”

 

“But you’re still shaking.”

 

“Probably just worn out from all the hot sex.”  He winked at Cas, got up, and hurried to the bathroom where he could think and try to calm down enough to figure out what to say to Cas.  He washed his face and checked himself out in the mirror.  Even he could still see the fear in his eyes.  Cas ... he always seemed so docile and yielding.  Dean really hadn’t known he had it in him.  Dating an angel had abruptly come to seem that much more dangerous.  Having a romantic relationship with an angel had never been a good idea, as every hunter who knew what Cas was was always telling him, as Cas said angels also strongly believed, but Dean had never let a little thing like that stop him from doing anything he wanted. 

 

Dean knew what angels were capable of.  It had always made him a little leery when Cas got in some altered state, lest he take some instinctive angel action that couldn’t be undone, but it had seemed unlikely and theoretical until he had actually ... well, in essence bound and gagged Dean against his will during sex last night.  Not that it hadn’t been hot, ’cause it had.  The fact that it was fucking terrifying made it that much hotter, somehow.  But still ... Cas had crossed one line, and those other eventualities had just come a step closer.  The question wasn’t whether Dean wanted him anyway; of course he did.  It was just how to get around Cas ever knowing he had made Dean afraid. 

 

Usually it was a good thing that Cas could look into his eyes and know everything he was thinking and feeling, but this ....  Cas had left him once, and that time it wasn’t because he had wronged Dean.  Dean knew Cas well enough to know the chances of him leaving were devastatingly high if he had any idea of half these thoughts in Dean’s head.  If Cas had the tiniest reason to believe Dean could come to harm at his hands, he would be gone that instant, and Dean didn’t know how to convince him it was totally worth dating him even if someday he did get carried away.  Dean was more worried about Cas if that should happen; the guilt might destroy him, and Dean wouldn’t be there anymore to talk him down.  If Cas died of guilt, would he go to heaven?  Could they be together there again? 

 

This was a disaster waiting to happen, and it was all up to Dean to figure out a way around it.  He cursed himself for having any of these stupid thoughts to begin with.  Why was he such a pussy?  Nightmares, really?  If he was more of a man, he would never have been afraid of any of this in the first place; he would just man up and take what came.  If only he could convince Cas of that.  Maybe that was the right angle ....

 

Cas knocked hesitantly on the door, and Dean jumped.  “Yeah?”

 

“You’ve been in there seventeen minutes, which seems excessively long.  Are you all right?”

 

“Yeah, I’m great.  I’ll be out in a few.”

 

After a reluctant pause, Cas murmured, “You’re lying.”

 

“You can tell that without even looking?”

 

“It lines your voice.”

 

Dean let out a loud breath.  “Just ... Cas, just give me a few minutes, please?  I need to think.”

 

“You are thinking of ways to lie,” Cas said wonderingly, realizing it.

 

“G--would you just--you can hear the truth in my voice, too?!  I thought it was just my eyes!”

 

“I can also see it in your form,” Cas said, almost like he wished he didn’t have to tell him.  If only it was tiny things like that that Dean had to figure out how to avoid telling Cas.  “Your demeanor.”

 

“Now ya tell me.”

 

Dean could hear Cas shift a little outside the door.  “Relationships ...,” he began, gaining steam as he seemed to find confidence.  “Relationships cannot function properly when plagued by lies.  All the magazines in the checkout lane at the grocery store say so.”

 

“You know I don’t want to lie to you, Cas.  I’m not figuring out how to lie to you; I’m trying to figure out how to make you ... not freak out and leave me, because no matter what, you know I can’t stand that.  You know that, right, Cas?  Remember, you promising me you would never leave me again, we would die by each other’s side?  Remember that?”

 

Then Cas was there in the bathroom with him, and Dean couldn’t help it; he stumbled backward.  It was so much like that dream.  Cas looked merely confused by Dean’s reaction, fortunately, not alarmed.  “I apologize for ... startling you.”

 

Dean closed his eyes and turned away.  “No problem.”  His voice, too?  He couldn’t talk without giving something away?  AND his posture?  He would turn off the light, except that he was pretty sure Cas could see in the dark just fine.

 

Cas could read him like a book.  “You hide,” he murmured, stepping slowly to Dean’s side and turning him to face him.  Dean kept his eyes shut tight, but he could feel his lips trembling.  This was ridiculous; how could he be afraid of Cas?!  Cas, whom he nursed back from the brink of death, who had so many nights lain vulnerable and fragile in his arms?  So he was back to full strength now.  That was a good thing!  A great thing.  Dean wasn’t afraid.  Shouldn’t be afraid.  How many times had he faced death?  He wasn’t scared then.  Okay, he was scared when the hellhounds were coming for him.  When it was just a battle and it was done, that was one thing, but this distant, encroaching danger; that was harder to live with.  Well, he would just have to learn how to. 

 

“Love you, baby,” he managed, quick enough to hopefully not betray his trembling lips and voice or whatever his voice might reveal.

 

“You’re afraid!” Cas said, shocked, stepping back.

 

“No no no,” Dean gasped, coming after him, the need to keep his eyes closed forgotten.  Dean clutched him in a tight embrace.  “No, man.  I’m not.”

 

“Why?” Cas asked, horrified.

 

Dean gulped.  Here it was: the moment of truth.  He’d always hated that phrase, because he hated those moments.  Avoided them like the plague.  Dean said carefully, “Uh ... just, you know, when people do the binding/gagging thing, usually they come up with a password first.”  He tried to say it like a joke, but it didn’t sound at all funny, and Cas wouldn’t get it, anyway.

 

He could practically hear Cas’s vast mind trying to parse this, the mad ticking of the hard drive operating at its limit.

 

He stroked down Cas’s arms until he found his hands and he held them tight in his, leaving his chin on Cas’s shoulder, his lips next to his ear.  “Listen, baby, I’m gonna work through this.  You’ve just got to give me a little time, and ignore ... you know, my whiny-baby fraidiness while I do.  Please.  Promise me,” he said, grasping at the possibility that maybe the solution was to get Cas to promise him something before he really understood what he was promising, then hold him to it.  That might actually work; Cas was naïve enough to fall for that childish kind of game.  Then he had an even better idea:  “Trust me.  Do you trust me?”

 

“Yes,” Cas said reluctantly, aware he didn’t have all the facts, but still compelled to answer the question.

 

“Good.  You know I know more about relationships and sex and life and all this stuff than you do, right?”

 

“Yes,” Cas said, even more reluctantly.

 

“So you’re gonna trust me when I say I know how to solve this, and I’m gonna solve it, and it’s all good, you’re all good, everything’s good when it comes to you, right?”

 

“Dean, I--”

 

“You know how sometimes, someone’s gotta deal with something, and nobody can help them, it’s their problem to fix, you know that, right?”

 

Cas nodded, looking very troubled.

 

“Okay.  Then trust me when I say this is my problem to fix, and just ... stay out of it.  I mean all the way out: no reading my mind, no coming into my dreams, nothing.”

 

“But in a relationship, don’t partners help each other with difficult issues ...?”

 

“Yeah, but not in this case; this one’s all me.  Got it?”

 

Cas didn’t like this at all; that was plain.  Dean started talking again to keep him from thinking too much, but Cas was onto that ploy.  “Dean, there are things I must say.  Allow me to say them.”  Dean subsided, antsy.  He could see the door, but he wasn’t out of jail yet.  Cas thought for what seemed like an eternity before finally saying, “Dean, I simply ... I simply feel I must understand.  I agree not to help you, if that’s really what you want, and I can see that it is, but still, I have to know ... what troubles you.”

 

“But--but that’s possible?” Dean said eagerly, “for you to just ... not look, not see the truth?”  This was going to be easier than he thought!

 

“No,” said Cas, and Dean’s hopes crashed again.  “Already I see your fear.  It has something to do with your dream, which had something to do with me.  You dread the future.”  Dean made an irritated noise.  This already sucked way worse than he thought!  “Dread such as you have only felt once.  Terrible dread.  Please tell me, Dean,” Cas begged, so sincere Dean almost spilled it that second, except that he knew how it would make Cas feel.  Somehow, he saw it anyway.  “It’s me!” he said, eyes widening more with shock than unhappiness ... but that came in the next second.  “You’re afraid of me!” 

 

He seemed so bewildered, so shocked, so crushed, Dean grabbed him close again.  “No,” he said firmly, then took Cas’s face and turned it to him.  “No,” he said fiercely.  “I’m not afraid.”

 

“You are afraid unto death,” said Cas flatly.

 

“Just ’cause I’m a pussy.  I’ll get over it, I swear--”  Several expressions twitched across Cas’s face, ending with the frantic horror he’d had just before he’d left Dean before.  “You promised!” Dean cried.  “You promised you wouldn’t leave me!”

 

“I frightened you?” Cas said, sounding so small, Dean himself wondered how it could be true.  Cas only had to take a small glimpse into Dean’s eyes before seeing something still worse.  “You’re frightened to death of me?!  Of death at ... my hands?”  He finished almost at a whisper, bewildered.

 

“Nope,” said Dean, somehow finding his balls that moment.  He really wasn’t afraid anymore.  He managed a smile he figured would look cool, fake as it was.  “Nope.  Look in my eyes; I’m telling the truth, aren’t I?”

 

Cas stared into his eyes for a long, long time.  Dean met them coolly.  When he was done, Cas looked down, looking smaller and even more retiring than usual.  “I promise I will not take any action until I have considered it first from every angle.  I will strive to discover the source of my errors and rectify them using whatever means necessary.  I ... I won’t leave you.  I am sorry.”  He looked up at Dean again, and his eyes were shining wet.  Dean’s face creased, and he put his hand on Cas’s cheek.  Angels shouldn’t cry.  They weren’t supposed to cry.  “It is the fault of ... what I am, but I will try to be ... less what I am,” he finished awkwardly.

 

Dean shook his head, then again.  “No,” he said anxiously.  “No, you have to be everything you are, Cas.  That’s why I just have to get over being afraid!”  They both stood there at a loss, both afraid, both upset.  Not knowing what else to do, Dean clutched him in a tight hug.  Cas clung to him in return.  The thought was so loud in his head, he knew it must be resonating with the same one in Cas’s, what everyone said, from the angels in heaven down to Dean’s hunter buddies: Angels and humans were never meant to be together.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean couldn’t take the way Cas was standing in the kitchen as he made breakfast: careful, no extraneous movements.  Cas had always tended toward stillness, but once Dean had become able to see his wings, he’d realized it was just his human aspect that was like that; his wings, his spirit, were always moving, reacting, as alive and vibrant as anything that came from this earth.  Not now.  Now his wings hung small and subdued behind him, tucked in, afraid.

 

“Cas, I told you a thousand times, I’m not scared,” Dean said, getting frustrated.  It had been a rough night and they were both on edge.  Okay, Cas was never on edge, but Dean was.  “You don’t believe me?!”

 

“I do believe you,” Cas said, serving Dean’s pancakes onto a plate with fresh strawberries from his garden and setting it in front of him on the counter.  “But I am afraid.”

 

“Of what?!”

 

“Of hurting you inadvertently, as I already have.”  Dark eyes passed across Dean’s upper arm where Cas had discovered one of the bruises left by his wings knocking Dean across the floor the night before.  Dean had cursed himself for not thinking of it and covering it up with a long-sleeved shirt before Cas could see it.  Dean had been thinking things were as bad as they were going to get, and then that happened.  Dean was scared, but not of Cas, not anymore.  He was scared of this, of Cas’s guilt, of what else Cas might discover, whether out in the world or inside Dean or in the past, evidence of yet another thing Cas simply did not have the skills to get past.  He didn’t know that sometimes you screwed up, sometimes you hurt people, sometimes you did something wrong, and you just had to try to forget about it and move on.  Angels never forgot, as Cas had told him many times. 

 

Actually, Dean was petrified.  They’d encountered shadows of this before, and it had already almost killed Cas--the guilt, the self-doubt, the incompatibility of his angel nature with his human life.  Dean had known deep down that it might get bad at times, but he’d been hoping against hope it would never get this bad, and here they already were, not three weeks since they finally got back together and swore they would be together forever, and revelations were still coming out of nowhere and knocking them down before they even had a chance to figure out how to get up from the last one.  Dean wanted to believe they were already knocked as far down as they could go, but that wasn’t how this was panning out.  Cas had only been able to promise that he would try to survive as a human, not that he would succeed.  Not like he had another option; with the gate to heaven closed, it was sink or swim now, and he was sinking.  He had to make it as a human or die trying.  Dean tried not to think about the possibility that soon he could be watching Cas fade and die before his very eyes, but seeing Cas hardly moving, his dark, deadened, hopeless expression, it was impossible not to.

 

Cas served his own breakfast and sat down next to Dean at the counter.  Neither of them touched the food.  “You feared I would s--”  His voice lost all volume on the word.  Cas looked surprised by his own voice’s failure.  “--Smite you.”

 

“I know you wouldn’t--” Dean blustered.

 

“You do not know.  Even I do not know.  I went back to the past, to the events of last night, and I observed my behavior.  I have no memory of anything that transpired.  I was no longer consciously aware or in control.  This is unutterably dangerous for you.”

 

Dean threw down his fork.  “Goddammit, Cas, it’s my choice, and I already told you I don’t care, it’s worth the risk.  Anyway, it only happened because  I pushed you too far.  Now that I know, I won’t do it again.”  Dean looked quickly away so Cas wouldn’t see the thought: he would so totally do it again.  God how he wanted to do it again.  He was surprised to find a tiny smirk could come to his lips even now.  What was wrong with him?  Sam would make the right choice, do the safe thing.  If Virginia and he had to have a conversation like this, he could make that promise and mean it ... but even if for some reason he couldn’t mean it, at least Virginia couldn’t look into his eyes and know it was a lie. 

 

Dean had a thought he’d had way too many times since last night: Dating an angel really was a disaster, especially when it came to a guy like Dean.  He squelched the thought as hard as he could, and forced himself to think about anything else, but he couldn’t help feeling a pang of guilt: If only poor Cas hadn’t ended up with Dean--if he’d ended up with a good guy like Sam or something--maybe he would be all right.  They could come up with safe rules the guy could actually adhere to, and Cas could feel reassured.  Or the guy wouldn’t be such a sissy and be afraid, and Cas would never have been aware of the out-of-control things he’d done.  Or ... you know, he could play this game forever, all the ways someone else would be so much better for Cas than him.  Cruel fate had brought them together--beautiful, wonderful, wicked fate.  Dean thought again how he got the good end of that deal.  He’d gotten an angel, and what had Cas gotten?  Of all the humans he could get stuck with, he’d ended up with one of the dregs.  Dean covered his face with his hands.  He didn’t know how much more of this he could take, but he couldn’t let Cas know that. 

 

“You are brave and noble,” Cas said softly, and ignored Dean’s snort of disagreement, “and I know you speak the truth.  I am not so brave.  Were I to kill you ....”  Their eyes met, and Dean couldn’t stand the depth of terror and sorrow and agony in Cas’s eyes.

 

“It was just that once!” Dean cried in desperation.  “It was my fault, okay?  It’ll never happen again!  Seriously, baby, I promise, I really will never do it again!”

 

“But I always lose conscious control of myself when we make love.”  He contemplated this for a moment.  “We could just never make love.”

 

“Oh, God, Cas,” Dean groaned, laying his head on his arms.  “Shoot me now.”

 

Cas brightened slightly.  “I know you like ladies.  You could make love with the ladies.”

 

Dean sat back up, slamming his arms on the counter.  “I don’t want them, I want you!”

 

Cas visibly lost the little bit of hope the thought had given him.  They sat there for a long time, thinking, trying as hard as they could to come up with solutions, failing.  Finally, Dean took Cas’s hand.  As much as this sucked--and it sucked harder than just about anything Dean had ever experienced--at least they were in it together.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Three horrible days later, Dean looked up at a rattle of bottles in the hallway.  Cas came through the door to their bedroom carrying a box, a wake of feathers trailing behind him.  Unsurprisingly, his feathers had begun falling out again.  Dean had to constantly quell the hysterical anxiety that brought up in him, reminding him of the other time he’d almost lost Cas.  Dean set down the spellbook he was consulting for answers, and got up.  Cas looked at him with those dead eyes.  “I thought of a wonderful solution,” Cas said, not looking like he felt the slightest bit wonderful.  Dean opened the box and pulled out one of the bottles.  It looked familiar.  “Holy oil,” said Cas.

 

Dean shoved it back in the box and scrambled away.  “What the--doesn’t it kill you?!”

 

“No.  Holy oil can be used to make holy fire, which kills us.  Holy oil merely ... weakens us.  I believe I would no longer be of any even potential harm to you were it applied to my wings and body.”

 

Dean looked at him suspiciously.  At first, Dean had been unwilling to consider anything that might change Cas in any way, but those were the solutions Cas was focusing on, and Dean was getting desperate enough to try anything.  This had promise.  If it was just oil, it could wash off once they’d come up with something better.  “Just as long as we keep you away from open flame, eh?” Dean said, creeping back toward the box uneasily.  Was that some gut feeling nudging him, or was he just feeling hopeless about everything?  He’d been feeling bad for so long, he couldn’t seem to tell the difference.  The small light in Cas’s eyes as he saw that Dean was considering allowing this was enough to tip the scales, and Dean took the bottle out of the box again.  “I guess it could be kinda hot, too--rubbing oil all over you.”  Cas smiled very faintly.  “Okay, let’s try it.”  Suddenly, he was all over this idea.  If they could just plug up the hole in the sinking boat, just for a little while, they could relax, come back to themselves.  Once the terrible looming threat was pushed back, maybe they could start to think of better long-term solutions. 

 

He helped Cas out of his clothes and spread an old blanket over the bed so no holy oil got on the sheets or the comforter, and eagerly poured some onto his hands.  Cas sat down on the bed before him.  Dean grinned, relieved.  He put an oil-covered hand on Cas’s shoulder, and was sure he didn’t imagine Cas’s flinch.  He looked quickly at Cas’s face.  It was exactly as impassive as it had been before.  He moved his hand, and watched Cas oh-so-slightly writhe along with the movement.  Dean slammed the bottle down on the bedside table, and Cas started.  “You’re fucking kidding me!” Dean yelled.  “It hurts you?  And you thought this would just be okay?!  Goddammit!”  He hurled the bottle against the wall, then started tearing up the room in his fury.  He hadn’t had a tantrum like this since he was six; Dad never allowed it.  For one thing, they never had the money for this kind of self-indulgence, but Dean couldn’t stop; he’d already been at the end of his rope, and that had undone the last of his grip.  He caught sight of Cas out of the corner of his eye, on his feet now, observing Dean’s behavior, wings spread wide with alarm.  It occurred to Dean it wasn’t unlike the scene that had started all this, only in reverse: now Dean was the out-of-control one acting scary.  At least Cas would see he wasn’t the only one this could happen to.

 

Dean stopped short of destroying the entire box full of bottles of precious, rare holy oil, and fell on the bed, weeping.  He felt Cas’s gentle hand on him soon after, stroking him softly.  “What’re we gonna do, Cas?” Dean sobbed.  “What the hell are we gonna do?”

 

* * *

 

 

 

“This is ridiculous!” Dean exploded the next morning, and Cas flinched.  Cas had become so paranoid about inadvertently hurting Dean that he would panic as he fell into the unawareness of sleep and disappear, reappearing in their room again a few seconds later, looking more confused and freaked out every time it happened.  He also disappeared any time his wings brushed against Dean, for fear the touch would lead to his usual happy daze, and that this would lead to his doing something bad in an unaware state.  Neither of them had gotten a wink of sleep.  This was dangerous for Cas, so dangerous.  Not like it would be good for anybody, but not enough sleep and food drained his angelic powers and his feathers started falling out.  He began to fade.  Too much more of this, and .... 

 

“Cas, you are just gonna have to get over this, you hear?  You’re just gonna have to learn to be a selfish asshole like everyone else, take what you can get, and not think about other people.”

 

“That is not how you behave,” said Cas.  He reverted more and more to monotone the tireder he got.

 

“Close enough.  Whether it’s how I do it or not, it’s how you’re gonna have to learn to do it.  Just forget about everything that happened, all right?--you going all wrathful, my dream, everything!” Dean cried, pulling at his own hair.  He heard the impatient, ridiculing tone in his voice, but he was past caring if he hurt Cas’s feelings.  Whatever it took, this had to stop.  “Stop being such a pussy and deal with it!”

 

“Yes, Dean.”

 

Dean eyed him, but he didn’t look any different.  “Don’t you fucking ‘Yes, Dean’ me!” he snapped.  “I mean what I’m saying!  Now get on it.”

 

“I am,” Cas intoned, staring at a single point on the floor.  “I am trying my hardest to do as you say.”

 

“Good.”  Dean got up and got a beer.  He offered one to Cas, but unsurprisingly, he refused.  “Maybe that’s it,” Dean muttered, taking a long first sip.  “Maybe I just need to get you drunk so you don’t remember anything.”

 

“No,” said Cas.  “I could negate its effects without effort.  It would be a pointless exercise.”

 

Then Dean had an even better idea.  “What we need is to get back on the horse,” he said with growing excitement.  “We just have to do it again.  We’ll do it again, and you’ll see that nothing bad is gonna happen.”

 

Cas really hated this idea; that was plain.  Dean had a sudden flash of how Cas’s superiors could have seen him as insubordinate.  Whenever they gave him an order he didn’t like, he probably looked just like this: sullen, reluctant, resistant.  “Yes, Dean,” he said with effort.

 

Dean stood up, feeling more hopeful than he had in hours.  He held out his hand to Cas.  “Come on.” 

 

Once they were in their bedroom, Dean ordered Cas to take his clothes off.  Cas responded well to being given orders, and it made what he was trying to do infinitely easier, so Dean didn’t hesistate to bark orders at him like their dad used to do to him and Sam.  In fact, Dean finally was starting to see the point.  When you had to work so hard to try to keep a helpless, naïve person safe, it was the most efficient way to go.  At least Cas did as he said and wasn’t a pain in the ass like he and Sam had been with their dad.  Dean shook his head.  Why had he been such a difficult son?  He’d really tried his best, unlike Sam.  Renewed resentment toward Sam for all the trouble he’d given Dad flared up in him.  All kinds of shitty feelings and memories just like that were coming up for him today.  All this awfulness with Cas wasn’t leaving him at his best.

 

“Get on the bed,” Dean told him shortly, taking off his own clothes.  “Lie face-down,” he said, when Cas lay on his back.

 

“But--but then you can touch my wings,” Cas said, fear creeping into his voice.

 

“That’s the idea.”

 

“No.”

 

Dean looked at him.  Cas was in a profoundly vulnerable state right now--vulnerable to any suggestion or influence.  Dean usually tried to protect him from such things; now he took full advantage of it.  “I just gave you an order, now do it,” he said harshly.  For the first time in his life, Dean was glad he’d been raised military-style--it was useful for knowing exactly how to give someone an order and bully them into obeying.

 

Cas rolled with palpable reluctance onto his stomach, trembling in every limb.  Dean looked away from the sight, forcing himself not to think about how terrified Cas was.  Dean sat next to him on the bed and put his hand on his back.  Cas’s whole body flinched.  “It’s gonna be okay, baby,” Dean murmured.  “Just do everything I say, and it’ll all be okay.  You won’t have to be afraid anymore.”

 

Dean lay next to him and stroked his back and near arm.  Cas was as tense as a piano wire.  “Shh ... relax,” Dean said.  “You’re okay.  Everything’s okay.”

 

“Please,” Cas moaned, very softly.  “Please, Dean.  Please no.  Please.  Please ....”

 

It tore his heart to pieces to listen to Cas beg, but it just had to be done.  Dean remembered taking Sammy to the doctor when he was a toddler to get his shots, how he’d cried and cried and it had just about killed Dad.  Mom had taken care of it with Dean--Dad had never had to take the kids to the doctor before himself--so he didn’t know what it was going to be like.  Watching Sam scream, Dean had desperately suggested maybe they should forget about it.  He wanted nothing more than to make Sam stop feeling like that.  It had seemed cruel of Dad to let the doctor do it anyway.  Now Dean understood: sometimes there wasn’t any way around making them suffer if you wanted someone safer in the end.  “Shh ....  It’s okay, baby,” Dean whispered.  “You’re gonna be okay.”

 

Cas was obviously ready for it when Dean’s hand finally touched his wing: he flinched again and gritted his teeth, his eyes getting a faraway look.  Dean took the look in his eyes as a good sign and continued, not holding back, but Cas wasn’t relaxing.  He really went for it and managed to elicit a very soft groan from Cas, but it didn’t sound like the usual groan of pleasure.  Dean finally looked at his face.  Cas was in pain.  Dean snatched his hand off his wing instantly.  “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

 

“Nothing,” said Cas, sounding exactly like a robot.

 

“Cas, answer me,” Dean said dangerously.  “Why isn’t this working?”  It had always given Cas pleasure before, without exception.

 

“My wings ... respond to you.  They are unable not to.”

 

“Yeah, I know, it makes them feel good.”

 

“It makes them feel.  Neither inherently good nor bad.  It makes them feel good because you feel good when you do it, we feel good, we have a positive purpose--”

 

Dean scrambled away.  “You mean I--you mean all this time, I had the power to hurt them, too?!”

 

“Of course.  Anyone with any power over another has the ability to cause either.”

 

“What the fuck?!  You didn’t tell me??”

 

“It was pleasure.”

 

“But you didn’t think to tell me just now, before I did it?”  Cas looked down, saying nothing.  “Answer me!”

 

“I thought you knew.”

 

“You thought I knew it was going to hurt you and that I wanted to do it anyway?!”

 

“I begged, but still, you ....”

 

Dean put his head in his hands.  “No no no.  No ....  God.”  This was too much.  He couldn’t take this.  They were doomed.  If Dean were better, smarter, wiser, anything, he might be able to come up with the answer for how to fix all this.  It had to be him.  Cas had no idea how to live as a human; only Dean did.  Trouble was, even he wasn’t good at it.  He sure as hell had never been any good at telling anyone else how to do it.  His methods only barely worked for him.  He had strongly resisted calling Sam, ruining his honeymoon, begging for help, especially since it probably wouldn’t work, anyway, but the time had come.  He got out his cellphone.

 

“Dean, why, then?”

 

He set his cell phone on the bedside table again.  “I thought if we just got back on the horse, if I made you face your fears--”

 

Staring straight ahead, Cas drew in a long, slow gasp.  “I see the solution.”

 

Dean had had his hope dashed one too many times.  He only looked at Cas, waiting.

 

Cas sat up, almost eagerly.  “The problem is an imbalance of power.  Humans are equal, but an angel and a human are not.  We need to create a balance.”

 

Dean didn’t see how this would be possible, but he shrugged gamely.  “How?”

 

“Humans know they are vulnerable to one another.  They’re equally vulnerable.  The better they know one another, the more they know how to harm or weaken one another.  They know how to kill one another.”

 

“Probably not as well as I do ...,” mumbled Dean, “but yeah, I guess.”

 

“You need to know how to weaken and harm and kill me.” 

 

“I know plenty about killing angels, Cas--I used to do a lot of it, remember?”  This was not something Dean liked to think about.  Back then, he hadn’t known there were good angels.  He wondered how many good ones he’d done away with along with the rest.

 

Cas got up, went to a drawer, and returned with a weapon: an angel blade, which he attempted to hand to Dean.  “Keep this close to hand.”

 

Dean recoiled.  “Are you kidding me?!  No!”

 

“If you stab me anywhere other than the torso, I will not die, but I will almost certainly be weakened beyond the capacity to hurt you.” 

 

“If you fucking think I’m ever gonna stab you--”

 

“There are many ways to weaken or harm an angel,” Cas went on, starting to sound ... cheerful?  “You know of some of them, and not of others, but you must know all of them.”

 

“I don’t want to know them,” Dean said quickly.

 

Cas looked slightly surprised.  “These are secrets given to no human in the history of civilization.  As a hunter, I would imagine you--”

 

“I’m not a hunter anymore.  I don’t need to know.  I trust you.”

 

Cas tilted his head.  “I can kill you with a touch.  I know the workings of the human body in minutest detail.  I would like for you to be armed with similar knowledge about what I am.”  Dean shook his head mutely, scooting away.  Cas quirked his head.  “Dean, I thought we were going to be together forever.”

 

“We are!  But I don’t see why--”

 

“This is union.  The sacred trust of such a bond lies in vulnerability, in trusting your partner with every detail of who you are, in trusting them with your very life.”

 

“Then forget about it!” Dean said.  “Like I told Sam, I never wanted marriage or union or anything.  If union means knowing every way there is to destroy someone, I don’t want it.”

 

“You must know, especially since, in my case, perhaps one day you will need to use it.  Perhaps today.”  Without hesitation or mercy, Cas proceeded to teach him every point of vulnerability on an angel’s body and what each of them meant.  He taught him how an angel might be blasted from its vessel, how it might be weakened, poisoned, sickened, wounded.  Cas focused especially on the things that wouldn’t hurt the vessel but would hurt the angel inside it.  There were words and symbols and substances that repelled angels, others that harmed them. 

 

Dean listened, eyes downcast, wishing he wouldn’t remember it all, knowing he would--he’d been trained from the earliest age to learn exactly this kind of thing, to file it properly in his mind in a way he would never forget.  The only part he was kind of happy to learn were the few words in Enochian Cas taught him.  Dean’s pronunciation was terrible, but Cas said he believed he would still understand him.  If only Dean had been able to get his attention with words when he first went all vengeful-angel ... maybe none of this would have happened.

 

Cas handed all this knowledge to Dean fearlessly.  Dean hated that, too.  He wasn’t the kind of guy you should tell this stuff to.  Talk about a guy with poor self-control; he didn’t deserve this kind of power, he didn’t deserve this kind of trust.  Who knew what he might do with it?  He’d done crazy stuff in the heat of the moment, even to Sam, who he loved more than anyone except Cas.  Dean was startled to realize what he’d always been so scared of in a relationship wasn’t the other person.  It was himself.

 

“You must use one of these defenses early, before I have an opportunity to prevent you from being able to move or speak.”

 

“I’m not gonna use them at all.”

 

“You must,” Cas commanded.  “Do not fear harming me.  I’m an angel.  We heal.”

 

“I’m not going to harm you!  Dammit, Cas, you don’t harm me; I’m not going to do it to you!”

 

“You must.  It will get my attention, which is paramount.  However, there is one final power you can use against me even if you cannot move or speak.”  Dean rolled his eyes.  This conversation was making him want to die.  “Simply pray, Dean.  Use my full name, and pray to me in your mind, your true heart’s desire, and as an angel, I cannot help but fulfill your request.” 

 

Dean frowned.  “Wait a minute.  Are you telling me you didn’t even have to teach me all that other stuff?”

 

Cas was perverse enough to smile at a time like this.  “I suppose so.”  Weirdly enough, he looked like a huge weight had been lifted from him.

 

“So then why the fuck did you?!”

 

“Because as I said, I wanted you to know.  Now we are equal.”  He sighed and leaned against Dean, looking vastly relieved.

 

Dean was so pissed ... but also grateful to see Cas feeling better.  Irritably, he put his arms around Cas, who in his weakened state felt more soft and feminine than usual.  Dean thought of all the girls he’d held in his arms just like this.  As sick and wrong as it seemed that Cas wanted to teach him how to kill him, it was hardly the first time Dean had ever thought such things about a lover.  So many times, he’d been overpowered by a fear for the girl he was with, a terrible awareness of her fragility, a need to protect it.  It was what he’d loved and hated most about dating humans: their vulnerability, to him.  How many times had he ditched out on a budding relationship because he started thinking about the things his hands had done to other creatures, how he’d broken and destroyed them, and what the girl would think if she knew, how she would recoil from the danger of him.  That was one great thing about Cas: he was so vastly more powerful than Dean that he would never fear Dean, and he knew so much about Dean that no revelation could horrify or surprise him.

 

“You are a sick, twisted motherfucker,” Dean murmured into Cas’s hair, unable to help kissing it as he did.  “A beautiful, wonderful, powerful, dangerous, weird, gorgeous freak.”

 

Cas beamed.  “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

So, they hadn’t had the courage to get back on the horse yet.  Correction: Dean hadn’t.  Cas had laid the angel blade out on the bedside table in anticipation.  Dean had put it away.  Cas had retrieved it without even having to look for it and returned it to the beside table.  Dean had hidden it.  Cas had found it.  And so on.

 

Otherwise, however, things were pretty much back to normal, except that their time with Sam and Virginia out of the house was fast running out.  What a waste.  Still, Dean was happy.  He almost couldn’t be more happy.  Cas’s obsession with growing things used to bore him silly.  Later, he found it charming, if incomprehensible.  He was coming to develop an appreciation for it himself, however.  They would drive to Cas’s property, and Dean would help him weed and water and harvest.  It had become one of the rhythms of their relationship, and having almost lost Cas now too many times, every second in his presence was precious.  Anything that Cas found this absorbing must have some kind of value Dean couldn’t see.  Anyway, it didn’t matter.  Cas was always going to garden.  If Dean did it with him, that was that much more time they could spend together. 

 

They were cleaning up the house the day before Sam and Virginia were supposed to arrive home.  Cas dusted as Dean threw away crap from the party and old junk mail when Dean happened to come across a piece of paper with Sam’s handwriting on it--Sam’s, and Virginia’s, each of them crossing out some lines, adding in others.  Their wedding vows.  “I, Sam, take you, Virginia, to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live.” 

 

Dean blinked, staring at them.  These were the vows?  That was it?  To love and to cherish Cas?  He couldn’t help doing that.  Better or worse?  Check.  They’d had plenty of each so far already.  Richer or poorer?  Well ... probably poorer, but Cas was an angel and could retrieve anything he needed anytime.  Cas didn’t care about wealth, anyway.  Dean could swing that.  Sickness and health?  This one might have scared him off, once upon a time, but he’d seen he would stand by Cas through that and anything else, as long as they could stay alive.  It wasn’t even a challenge, wasn’t even a question.  He couldn’t leave Cas, no matter what happened, and he never would.  That was all you had to do in order to get to have and hold them forever?  He turned around, still holding the piece of paper.  “Hey, Cas.”

 

Cas looked up mildly from his work, and smiled at him.

 

“Wanna get married?”

 

* * *

 

 

 

So Cas was having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of an angel getting to get married.  Whatever; Dean knew he’d bring him around eventually.  The important thing was that they were about to get back on the horse.  Somehow, realizing he was capable of something as huge as upholding marriage vows had given Dean the confidence to get back to his husbandly duties, too.  He was grinning as he took off his shirt.  “This is gonna be awesome,” he said.  “Last night with Sam and Virginia away.  Better make the most of it.”

 

Cas looked severe.  “I see what you are planning.  It’s a very bad idea, Dean.”

 

“If we’re gonna get back on the horse, may as well do it up right.”

 

Cas made an irritated noise, though affectionate.  “Every other human I’ve ever known would exercise caution in this situation.  You are the only one who not only doesn’t, but who also means to forge further afield even than before.”

 

“I’ve got lots of ideas.”

 

Cas produced an angel blade out of thin air and placed it on the bedside table.  Dean stopped smiling.  “Keep it to hand,” Cas said sharply.

 

“I’ll just pray.  Oh, how I’m gonna pray.  I know exactly what I’m prayin’ for.  I came up with all the things I’m gonna pray for you to do to me and memorized them.”

 

Cas shook his head, an awkward smile on his face, as if he didn’t understand how he could find himself smiling at Dean’s foolhardy audacity.  “You mean to take us back where we were last time when I terrified you.”

 

“Farther, if I can.  However far you’ll let me get.”

 

“Now I am frightened.”

 

Dean, finally all the way undressed, stroked his cheek.  “Don’t be scared.  This is gonna be fun.”

 

He had to say, for an angel, Cas sure did look full of anticipation.  It was a subtle thing, more in the energy and the eyes and the fluttering of his wings than in his expression.  “I truly don’t believe I would ever hurt you.  Everything I am is ever aware of everything you are, whatever state I might find myself in.”

 

“Whatever state I might put you in,” Dean breathed, kissing him as he sank onto his knees on the bed.

 

“I am certain I never meant to hurt you, only to make you obey.”

 

Dean grinned, melting.  Life was so, so sweet.  “Can’t wait.”

 

 

~ The End ~

**Author's Note:**

> \- I began writing Destiel with the thought, "Dean is so screwed up, only an angel could fix him now." Dean may have had to go through a lot in my stories, but at least he's starting to deal with stuff .... ;-)
> 
> \- This story now has a sequel called "One," in which Dean and Cas finally get married. You can read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/808364


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